I found it sort of staggering that the virus that
was controlling, it isn't life.
A virus is looking for life.
It's a strand in search of its proteins.
And it's not even like it's not even there to have a will
but it had a will and it was little breath circles
across town.
I thought I saw a man bent over, but it was a road sign.
I thought I heard deploying data management systems,
But it was just sounds in the mind.
Dr. L. woke early, breathed, and put on a blue sheath.
Dr. M woke on Earth, logged in, and counted
a fringe flight of numbers.
Some woke old and alone, and when they died, they were ours.
Unprecedented was our word.
C closed the shops, and the books read to each other
as we have written the data driven.
The yellow drifts left at the laundry recalled its one body,
and the single lemon on the branch hung like a Wednesday.
Radiance, what is your intention?
We lit a single candle, not 12,
And the world's soul floated over the bored children
With their handhelds and their adults with their own beasts
And their own apocalypse, while the sickness passed by,
Going the other way in a yearning chorus of fragments.
Intention, What is your intention?
Wasn't there meaning among the jeweled threads?
You can buy the RNA sequencing kit online for $4000.
We could hear the great dead with fires far off.
We could hear the ones we love, the singing flame.